Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Sarah II






Some time ago during one of the many incredibly beautiful days Memphis had last year, my good friends Natx and Cass decided that we should hop onto our bikes, and bomb on down for some Pho Binh (If you live in Memphis, and have not yet frequented this place, shame on you. All the Vietnamese food you can eat for $6.50, and weather or not you're a carnivore, you'll still dig the tofu.) and that amazing cafe' with the condensed milk. (Again, try this if you have the opportunity.) During the process of consuming my many, many plates of food and planning our trip for a local burn, we caught sight of a group of young girls sitting not too far from us.

Well, to be fair, it more happened along the lines of me competing with one of the tiny young ladies for a plate of that amazing spicy tofu. Looks were given, glances exchanged, guttural warning growls issued. In the end, we split the difference, and hightailed it back to our respective seats to hungerly devour our mutual spoils.

It wasn't until we were out the door, and unlocking our bikes when Cass gave me "the look".

Me: What?
Cass: Go ask her for her number.
Me: Wha? No! Women are scary! And um, mean. Except you. And Lydia. And...
Cass: You're stalling. No balls, dude.

This of course turned me on my heels, and striding determinedly into the restaurant, I loomed over the tiny punk rock Mexican, my former rival in food, and sized her up for a moment. Her friends all looked up in suprize, falling silent. Sarah continued to munch on her food, looking up curiously. I can, at this point in time, assure you that there are very few things which will phase her enough to stop her from eating, one of the many, many traits we have in common.

Me: Do you drink... COFFEE?!?
Sarah: YES!!!
Me: Here's my number! Drink coffee with me!
Sarah: Yes!

To this day, Sarah maintains that I was asking her out on a date. I suppose, in all fairness, that I was, though I won't admit this in person. In my defense, however, she began excitedly texting me not fifteen minutes later, something that nearly got me run over when my phone went off, and startled me while biking in midtown late afternoon traffic.

Oh, I should probably mention at this point that out of the table of girls, I picked the one lesbian. Of course. But I didn't know that at the time...

After (barley) surviving the ride home, we decided to meet in a couple of hours at Republic Coffee, and upon greeting each other once again, began an immediate and earnest discussion of our mutual hatred of pineapples.

Needless to say, this was a big deal.

Other things discussed included foam noodle fighting tactics and formations, Popular Science back issues, Japanese animation, music, and of course, food.

Our night moved from location to location, both of us encountering mutual friends, and sharing in the adventure until we finally concluded our evening at Gibson's Tastee Doughnuts. Here she confessed her sexual orientation to me, almost as if she were worried it would mean that I wouldn't be as interested in hanging out with her if I knew that we wouldn't be sleeping together. I don't think she, or anyone else for that matter, expected me to laugh as loudly as I did that evening.

A week later we nearly moved in together, and have been the best of Platonic friends pretty much ever.

She's helped me through so very, very much, and I'd like to think that I've had somewhat of a positive influence on her life as well. She's still my partner in crime, and we're convinced, a tiny female clone of myself. When she introduces me, it's as her older brother, and no one questions this.

So even though to her face I'll deny this all day long, in all reality, it was the best first-sort-of-date-but-not-really-ever.

Happy late Valentine's, Sprau.
-T